Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Pianist Matthew Shipp (left) and bassist Michael Bisio (right) are coming to Pittsburgh tomorrow night (that's Wednesday, April 1) and performing at the First Unitarian Church at Ellsworth and Morewood Avenues. I talked to Matthew a couple weeks ago, and parts of the conversation are appearing tomorrow in Pittsburgh City Paper as part of a bigger article about shows happening here this month. Considering how the show is tomorrow, and how Matt only gets a few good quotes in, I figured I'd run the whole interview here. Matt has a bit of a reputation as being a firebrand but he's always been nothing but nice to me. Plus, his performances are amazing. He and Michael came to town last fall as a duo and it was astounding. So if a few more people are motivated to check them out based on this, that will be a good thing.

Q: So did I read that you have an album coming out on ESP-Disk?

It’s the sax player’s CD [Polish
tenor saxophonist Mat Walerian] but they put my name on it because it’s his
first cd. And I have an Ellington album [To
Duke] out too on a French label, Rogue Art.

Q: But didn’t you say I’ve Been to
Many Places might be your last album.

I know what I said. Don’t listen to
what I say when it comes to recording. [Laughs} I meant it. But I’m still in
this vortex of recording. I just can’t seem to get out of it.

Q: Is it still fun?

Yeah. I love the process but I would
rather….

Q: Why’d you say it?

I’ve been with [the label] Thirsty Ear
for a long time. And I’m not going to keep doing it forever where I keep
putting out Thirsty Ear albums now. And probably, when I end my relationship
with Thirsty Ear, unless something sweet comes along, where it’s involved with
some patronage type of thing, I’m not gonna keep generating albums on other
labels too. It’ll be obvious when it’s time. And I thought it was, but it wasn’t quite.

Q: How long you and Michael [Bisio, bass] been playing together?

The first gig with the trio was
probably 5 to 6 years ago. We have a real feel for each other and a real
friendship apart from the music. And a real feeling of destiny for this part of
our life as far as being a team. We have a real sense of purpose with this. I
feel it does show in the music.

Q: How does playing in a duo setting differ from the trio [which had
included drummer Whit Dickey]?

It’s more intimate. The trio – this
might sound weird – it’s more of a commercial jazz setting and people are more
used to that format. You can kind of do it with the veneer that it’s a regular
jazz trio no matter how modern the music is. And with the duo, you do away with
that pretense altogether, just doing pure communication.

Q: How does playing with Michael compare with playing with William
Parker?

It’s two different structures
altogether. They both are utter monsters and they both are strong
personalities. And they both are great bassists and they both are totally different
also. i’ve been blessed to have both of them in my life. I feel very lucky.

Q: Do you still get to play with William?

I have breakfast with him most every
day. I do stuff with him occasionally. I’ve done a couple different things that
he’s been involved in, in the last year. I mean he’s so busy with his own
stuff.

Q: So, the new album [The Gospel According
to Matthew & Michael (Relative Pitch) with Bisio and violist Mat Maneri]
– how spontaneous was that?

I want that to be the mystery. I’m
not going to say. There are definitely some composed parts but it’s also a lot
of improv. The percentage – I want to sit back and see what everyeone guesses
with that….there’s definitely some compositions in there. This is an experiment
for me. I want to see what people project on it. So I’m not going to answer
that.

Q: Tell me about the Robert D. Bielecki grant.

In my case, he gives out different
grants for different things but he just gave me a certain amount of money ($15,000)
and told me to do whatever I want with it. I used some of this for this
project. He’s a foundation and he gives away money to people he thinks will do
something with it. And he happens to be a fan of my music. So that worked out
well.

Q: How did it come together? Did you have to apply for it?

I knew he was doing a foundation and
I put out feelers. I had seen him sneaking around at a couple of my concerts in
the past. I started talking to him and he asked, If I gave this amount of money,
what would you do with it? And I said, I don’t know… pay off credit card debts?
[Laughs] But I used that money to fund this project. I haven’t done anything
with Mat Maneri for a while, and I wanted to get back with him and do something
with him also.

Q: How is touring going? Is your audience growing?

Every gig’s different in every place.
We’ve had some really good turnouts for some things recently. I actually played
at Jazz at Lincoln Center. It was the Ellington project. We had two sold out
sets. I recently played in Washington DC and the organization we played had the
biggest audience they ever had. But on any given night, you can have an off
night. Nothing is a straight line in this. But we’ve been doing pretty well on
the road.

Q: How are shows in Europe?

I’m not going to say it’s dried up.
But it’s not as rich as it once was. But
yeah it’s cool.

Q: A few days ago, you started a debate on Facebook at the San Francisco
Jazz Festival.

Oh, that’s still going on. [Shipp’s
issue was that a large number of performances during the festival were tributes
to older artists or albums, like A Love
Supreme, at the expense of current artists playing their own music]

Q: Well, here’s your chance to expound on it.

I would just say, ah… all jazz needs
to be organic. And by organic I mean, just let people do what they do, whether
it’s straight ahead, avant-garde…I would say there’s an over- degree of conceptualization
going on in programming at major festivals that’s not conducive to having a
beautiful organic evening. A lot of it seems to be very calculated – calculated
for tourists. And in that way, it’s doesn’t seem to be a vibrant music. The way
a lot of major festivals are presenting it, they got corporate sponsorships and
it seems like they almost program things in ways that they think mirror the
corporate sponsorship. There’s something so plastic about so much of it.

Q: That’s everything I wanted to ask. Is there anything you wanted to
add?

I’m just trying to play some music.
I’m trying to really be organic these days and try to do my thing.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

But first, before I get to the titular subjects, I have to do a what-I've-been-up-to introduction, because it's been a handful. I'm not one of those bloggers who can give immediate updates at the drop of a hat.

Yesterday was the first Monday in a few weeks where I didn't have a story to work on or an interview to conduct. Or both, which I think might have been the case recently. Last week, I returned to Blurt after a long hiatus of writing for them. I reviewed the new album by Australia's Dick Diver which you can find here. It has yet to run, but I also interviewed Mark Stein, organist for Vanilla Fudge. With SXSW coming up this week, Blurt will probably go on hold for a spell. But as soon as I can say, "here comes the Fudge," I will let you know when that article drops.

Mr. Stein was a good egg too. Turns out the band is still loathe to talk about the sophomore slump LP The Beat Goes On, but like a trooper, he did anyhow. We also discussed the start of the band, as well as the making of their new album - yes, they're still at it - Spirit of '67.

Butler put on a good show, with a four-piece band of himself on guitar and keyboards, drummer, second keyboardist and back-up vocalist. His album (if you can call it that because it only has eight songs, most of them under four minutes apiece) Policy runs the gamut, stylistically, as did the show. "What I Want" had the power chord attack of the Buzzcocks while, one song later, "Anna" sounded like Suicide, with an unrelenting keyboard riff. The album had only been released two days prior, but the audience - which probably numbered in the high 100s, whatever the capacity is at Brillo' - seemed familiar enough with it and ate it up.

The UK newspaper The Guardian struck a deal with Butler a couple weeks ago where he wrote a song a day for five days, based on articles he read on their masthead. Results were then posted on Soundcloud. The idea might sound dubious, but the results are actually pretty strong. Among the ones he played at the show, "Madonna Won't Save You," is one of the most memorable, if nothing else for its opening line of "You can spend all day/ breaking hearts with a/ sledgehammer and a glass of milk." Weird lyrical non-sequiturs like that also show up on the album too and act as some of the more memorable aspects of the release.

Even though he might only have scant material available now, Butler and the crew weren't lacking for a set. They plowed from one song into another, with little time left for banter, though Butler gave a shout-out to former Pirate Andy Van Slyke later in the set. The back-up vocalist and keyboardist had some dance moves going later in the evening. The fact that they weren't quite synchronized added to the charm, making it seem more like the inspiration of the moment got them moving.

Two nights prior to that show, avant/prog-rock/noise/experimental jazz trio Hypercolor played at Howler's. They were touring behind a new self-titled release on Tzadik. Drummer Lukas Ligeti, guitarist Eyal Maoz and bassist James Ilgenfritz play music that gets heavy at times but never bombastic. Ligeti's drumming sounded especially propulsive early in the set, getting things off to a strong start. Maoz, who sits while playing, worked a bunch of pedals to keep the textures evolving, while Ilgenfritz used the six-string bass in a manner that you don't see very often. He jammed econo on it, to put it one way.

All three of these cats have numerous projects going on, so there was a plethora of CDs to peruse after the show. Ilgenfritz, who has released a solo-bass disc of Anthony Braxton compositions, had a disc that came out that day of an opera he wrote based on William S. Burroughs' The Ticket That Exploded. I also picked up a disc of a project called Colonic Youth, which includes drummer Kevin Shea on it.

Hypercolor's showkicks off a pretty intense six-week slew of jazz performances in Pittsburgh. To be self-serving for a moment, I'll only list one - Hearing Things, a trio of Matt Bauder/Vinnie Sperrazza/JP Schlegelmilch, who play something closer to '60s instrumental. They're playing at Howlers on Sunday, March 22 with my band, the Love Letters.

Tuesday, March 03, 2015

Monday is typically a day where I can blog about the weekend's events since it's usually a day off. But yesterday was so action-packed that I didn't get a chance. In the morning, the city was a sheet of ice (and it still is in front of my house because there's no rock salt to be had in all of the Pittsburgh; apologies to my neighbors) so there was a two-hour delay for the kid's school. The weather also killed a coffee date I had with a friend of mine.

Later that afternoon, I went to Donny's school for Read Across America Day, armed with Ezra Jack Keats' John Henry. I chose that book because, when I was a second grade, the Arrow Book Club (from whom we ordered books at school) had a record of James Earl Jones reading the story, which I ordered. His voice still resonates in my head when looking at the words on the page. I'm no James Earl Jones when it comes to orating, but I did a pretty convincing read for the class.

At 4:30, the phone rang and on the other end was Mark Stein, organist extraordinaire of Vanilla Fudge. We talked for about half an hour and I felt like it could've gone on longer. Much of what he told me is probably subject matter he has to rehash over and over, so it was nice of him to do that. He said upfront that he doesn't like talking about The Beat Goes On, their second album and a failed concept album. Still, he spoke his mind about it, and about the new stuff the band is doing. The results of that interview will appear on the Blurt website hopefully sooner rather than later, because Vanilla Fudge's new album comes out this week.

Finally, yesterday, Ma Shanley got back into town and I had to meet her at the train station at 8:00 to get her home. She had a good time with brother and his family outside of Philadelphia.

Rewinding back to Sunday afternoon, the Westerlies performed at Carnegie Library, essentially kicking off what I consider to be two months of serious jazz shows. Below is a picture of the band, left to right - Zubin Hensler, Riley Mulkerkar, Andy Clausen and Willem de Koch. (Remember that thing that's in the background? A good, old fashioned card catalog. Not sure if it's still in use or if it's just moved to this room to be dealt with at a later time.)

Last year the Westerlies released an album titled Wish the Children Would Come On Home, on which they played a whole set of compositions by Wayne Horvitz. He might be known to many as "the guy who played keyboards in John Zorn's Naked City" or as a former downtown New Yorker. But he taught the guys when they were living in Seattle, before they all ended up moving to New York for college.

Horvitz's writing starts with a bunch of musical strains and winds up being something pretty unique. Jazz, Americana, modern classical - it also seems to factor into it, but you can't lay a finger on one particular element. (A few years ago, an article in JazzTimes mentioned that there was some particular descriptor that sent him through the roof. I think it was "iconoclast." It's easy to see why it could be affixed to him, but also why he didn't approve.)

As rapturous as the Westerlies album is, seeing them in person was even more exciting. The way the four of them blend together creates a full sound that goes beyond what could be expected from a quartet. Not only are their harmonies really tightly voiced (especially with the trombones, who handle harmony and a lot of rhythmic stuff in de Koch's parts), but the pitches catch your ear in a way that seems to get between the notes. Thoughts of the Microtonal Festival (which had also been going on all weekend) might have been influencing my thoughts during the set.

When the group invited up a former teacher and the head of the concert series to sing with them, things sounded even richer, the voices blending with the horns, occasionally getting overpowered by the brass but still sounding strong. Donovan, my seven-year-old companion, who seemed pretty interested throughout the one-hour set, said he liked this part best. Because he was with me, and because we needed to get a book before the library closed, there wasn't time to hang out and chat too much with the group. But hopefully they'll be back again.

Friday, February 27, 2015

I bought this Vanilla Fudge album about a month ago, along with their debut album. I wanted to get back to it in part because this Monday, I'm interviewing Fudge organist/vocalist Mark Stein for an article on the band. Yes, they're still together and in fact they have a new album out.

Around the beginning of the year, I told myself that I should be a little more ambitious about writing, like I haven't been in a long time. The combination of getting the Love Letters record together and my dad passing away left me feeling like I wasn't into doing much more than the basics. (In case any of my editors read this, the previous comment should not be confused with the idea of "phoning it in." I merely didn't feel like trying to go above and beyond the journalistic path.) Hell, I haven't written anything for Blurt in months. Now I'm doing this Vanilla Fudge piece for them, along with a couple record reviews.

Yesterday, I also did an interview with Arcade Fire's Will Butler, who has a solo album coming out in a couple weeks, and who is also coming here around the same time. The timing of the interview got a little screwed up but it all shook out okay, and Will was a pretty nice bloke. I managed to squeeze that in between dinner and band practice, not to mention picking up the kid from his friend's house in the meantime.

Plus the deluge of live music in Pittsburgh starts this Sunday with the Westerlies at Carnegie Library. I'll blot about that, and offer a list of upcoming shows in the next entry.

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Drummer Andrew Drury's two self-released albums display vastly different sides to his approach to the kit. Content Provider features a quartet of two saxophones, guitar and drums playing Drury's compositions (and a completely reimagined Clifford Brown tune). The Drum is just how it sounds: Drury and a floor tom, with a few accessories. But both of those descriptions barely scratch the surface of what appears on each disc.

It helps to know that Drury studied with the late Ed Blackwell, leaving his home in Seattle at 18 and heading to Connecticut to meet the one-time Ornette Coleman sideman. Blackwell's liberated approach to the kit affected Drury, opening him up to infinite possibilities. He went on to play with Wadada Leo Smith, John Tchicai and Brad Mehldau, to name just a few. His current projects include 1032 K, a sort of repertory group who pay homage to people like Albert Ayler, Charles Mingus and Roswell Rudd. They released the solid That Which Is Planted last year, and they're about to perform a commissioned suite at the Lincoln Center Rubenstein Atrium.

The jagged riff under pinning "Keep the Fool" makes a great opening for Content Provider, and sounds like a drum line transcribed to guitar. Hearing it delivered by skronk-and-burn guitarist Brandon Seabrook only adds to the execution. On top of him, tenor saxophonist Ingrid Laubrock and alto saxophonist Briggan Krauss alternate between countermelodies and combining with Seabrook.

The title track, after a red herring intro that could have been "Also Sprach Zarathustra," introduces a brief long-toned theme that connects passages of free blowing from the quartet, resulting in 14 minutes that fly by quickly. Drury's fills and rolls, not only on this track but throughout the whole album, bolster the theme and offer foundation that his companions use as a springboard for their own furious solo work. Seabrook reinforces why he keeps showing up in rock and jazz situations, since he balances melody and noise (in "The Commune of Brooklyn" he sounds like he's imitating a truck's back-up warning). If the six Drury originals weren't enough, they take Clifford Brown's upbeat bop classic "Daahoud" and slow it down, turning it into something closer to "Harlem Nocturne," making the chord changes more prominent in the process. Much like Ches Smith's These Arches, this band highlights a drummer with a personal approach to the kit, an engaging melodic mind and skill at band leading. If this album doesn't start getting a buzz soon, something's wrong.

And speaking of buzz, that's part of what can be found on The Drum.

Albums devoted to one instrument are nothing new in creative music. In fact Count Basie drummer Papa Jo Jones even made a solo album (The Drums) as far back as 1973. That album had an impact on Drury, but what he creates with just a floor tom, abetted by an aluminum sheet, bell and faucet escutcheon, frequently doesn't even sound percussive.

The Drum is not for the faint of heart. While Drury could have parlayed his teachings from Blackwell into rhythmic excursions on the skin, he instead employs the ol' artillery of extended techniques: scraping textures on the drum head that sometimes squeal, sometimes rumble and often do both. "Hidden Voices" could be mistaken for wild brass notes that Peter Evans or Wadada Leo Smith might emit. "Aluminum Donkey Dance" sounds like his Content Provider compadre Seabrook, or Jimi Hendrix, imitating UFOs in "EXP."

Once the mind is freed from any preconceived ideas about this performance, parts of The Drum sounds pretty fascinating. "Control and Let Go" sounds like a squeal sustained for four minutes, and gets a little old. And the whole disc might appeal more to fans of Merzbow than to jazz. But the ways in which Drury produces these noises - both the abrasive and the hypnotic - give this album staying power.

Sunday, February 22, 2015

It takes the wind out of your sails when you go on Facebook to link a post, and you see a bunch of posts about Clark Terry passing away. I probably can't say anything that hasn't already been said, but I owe it to this great artist to say something anyway.

Clark Terry was one of those musicians who seemed to always be around. My dad had an eight-track tape of him when I was a kid. I'd see his records in stores all the time. Buck Bryce probably played him regularly on WYEP back in the day. I knew he was in the Count Basie band for awhile too. So I kind of took him for granted.

When I saw him play at the University of Pittsburgh Jazz Concert one year, within one chorus of a solo, I thought, "Yeah, now I see why he's so omnipresent. He's incredible. Talk about playing at the top of your game."

There have been several pieces I've written over the years for JazzTimes about jazz education, and Clark's name popped up a lot in them. You want to see the personification of the word "tireless," look at him. The guy was 94 years old, and even when he was confined to a wheelchair, he was still active.

In discovering this double-set of live recordings by pianist Red Garland, it's interesting to parallel the state of his career with that of his former "boss, " Miles Davis. By 1977, the trumpeter had pioneered electric jazz, added funk to it and had retreated from the performance sector. Garland too, had disappeared from the stage for a few years, but when he returned, his approach to the piano sounded virtually the same as it did nearly two decades prior when he anchored the Davis quintet that included John Coltrane. The set list could have come from the late '50s/early '60s period, with his take on "Billly Boy" (borrowed from Ahmad Jamal), "On Green Dolphin Street" and "Dear Old Stockholm," all of which he recorded with Davis.

Yet none of the music sounds out of date, either from a 1970s perspective or a 2015 perspective. It has an air of authority to it. This is how these songs should be played if you want to affect listeners. Not only that, since there are no horns sharing the spotlight with Garland, Swingin' at the Korner reveals what an influential pianist he was. He could move from heavy blues to light ballad, all of it containing some serious weight. Garland was occasionally dismissed as a "cocktail pianist" playing little more than background music, but even lighter fare like "It's Impossible" or "On a Clear Day" never sounds mawkish in his block-chord-playing hands. This style still fuels budding pianists to this day.

The title refers to San Francisco's Keystone Korner, where these performances were recorded in early December 1977. It reunites Garland with his fellow Davis bandmate Philly Joe Jones, who also plays with plenty of swing and fire. In fact, the drummer gets plenty of solo space, even in tunes like "Autumn Leaves" (taken at a brisk pace after a gentle opening), indicating the rapport and fun that both players we're having onstage. Bassist Leroy Vinegar had never joined forces with but of these guys - and never would again - but his solid walking, always enthralling and never cliched, makes a perfect piece to this puzzle.

Being an Elemental release, Swingin' on the Korner comes with a deluxe booklet, not only with appreciations from Keystone Korner owner Todd Barkan and Nat Hentoff, but interviews with Don Schlitten (who worked with Garland at Prestige and later MPS Records), drummer Kenny Washington and Ira Gitler. Pianist Benny Green reminisces too, and an informative 1979 article by Doug Ramsey that appeared in Texas Monthly also offers great insight into the pianist. In addition to being a great listen, albums like this make you want to go back and rediscover Garland's past glories, with a better perspective on them.

Sunday, February 15, 2015

Playing right now: Prism Quartet - Heritage/Evolution Volume 1 (Innova)Note: Since this was posted originally, it's been edited to include the set list
Okay, so I suppose I was wrong. A few weeks ago I stated that everything I've done with the Love Letters culminated on the night of our record release show on January 31. But really, I felt like the moment of truth came this past Friday when the New Pornographers played at Mr. Small's Theatre.
I felt that way largely because throughout the time that we were making the record, and prior, I never met John Collins in person. There were phone calls, emails, even an interview (where the whole scheme for the record germinated in my head). But that night we were going to meet face to face.
Yes, he's just a guy. A guy who plays bass (and a million other instruments too, if you check his credits on several NPs albums) and just happens to have a recording studio and a good ear. So I shouldn't act all star-struck. But throughout all the time that I dealt with him, I was pretty tenacious, not wanting to let this opportunity slip through. With that in mind, who knew what he'd have to say. Maybe he'd tell me how much of a pest I was. Maybe he was doing this out of obligation.
Turns out it was neither. After staring at another guy, wondering if it was John (it wasn't), a few minutes later, a soft-spoken guy slid up and casually said, "Hey." And he was soft-spoken to the point that my damaged ears sometimes had trouble hearing what he was saying. Erin (Love Letters drummer) and I chatted with him for a few minutes, gave him a record and gave him the band update. He was interested in all of it.
Jaill was the opening act, and they were playing while we talked. Their set was pretty good: Guitar-driven pop with keyboards and a singer that sounded a little like Arcade Fire's Win Butler or Clap Your Hands Say Yeah's Alec Ounsworth, albeit not quite as whiny, just in terms of register. I later picked up their album There is No Sky (Oh My My) which is even better than their set indicated.
While Jaill was playing, Erin and I made our way back to the bar, where the sound was really good and visibility was good enough. So we decided to stay put instead of eventually going to the front of the room. Plus there was something to lean on, rather than having to stand in a sea of people. (The show was sold-out.) If I felt like having a drink, I didn't have to go anywhere either. They hit the stage with "Brill Bruisers" and the energy didn't waver the whole time. It's been almost six years since I've seen the band live, so naturally I built up the excitement in my head about what it should be. And I wasn't disappointed.
Neko Case wasn't with the band. (Don't dwell on this, people. Yes, she's great but it might hurt Carl's feelings.) But Dan Bejar was - something that's NEVER happened when they've come to Pittsburgh before. We finally got to hear "Jackie's Dressed in Cobras," "Testament to Youth in Verse" and several others. He didn't play the whole set, coming and going, strapping an acoustic guitar on and off.
The set dipped as far back as album #1, with title track "Mass Romantic" inspiring some frenzied pogoing and yelling from me. The Brill Bruisers songs all sounded really strong too, recreating the layers of the album (it helps having two keyboard players) with lots of guitars on top. In addition to Carl Newman's steady rhythm work, and Bejar's coming and going, mainstay Todd Fancey was there in the corner of stage right. At least I think it was him, from where I was standing.
Erin wondered if they'd play "The Bleeding Heart" show, to which I replied, "They have to." It reminds me of an interview with one of the original Temptations who said they once tried to do a show without singing "My Girl" and took some serious heat for it afterwards. That song became the final one of the evening during the encore. ("Bleeding Heart" not "My Girl.") I was a little surprised they didn't do ELO's "Don't Bring Me Down" as they have in the past. But it's a good idea to keep us guessing.
I told John earlier that I would like to say hi to Kathryn Calder, their one keyboardist and vocalist. When she put out her second album, I did a so-so email interview with her that became a small feature in Blurt. But I really love her albums, including a new self-titled one that's coming out in a couple months. (I heard an advance of it this week.) He texted me before their set and said to hang around after and he'd introduce us.
After they were done, John came out and took me backstage where Kathryn was waiting. Much like John, she too was totally laidback and friendly. We talked about loosing parents and the effect it can have on writing and recording. I'm hoping to do a real interview with her for the album in a few months. The only downside is that she said her solo tour probably won't come to Pittsburgh because it's too expensive. I didn't ask if that meant the distance or our city's entertainment tax or what. I just let it slide, even though it burst my bubble a little.
Then I went home. No pictures. It never entered my mind to get some while we were talking. Guess you'll have to just take my word for it. Here's the setlist:Brill BruisersMyriad HarborMovesSlow Descent into AlcoholismWar on the East CoastDancehall DomineUse ItJackie Dressed in CobrasAnother Drug Deal of the HeartThe Laws Have ChangedYou Tell Me WhereAll the Old Show Stoppers
Adventures in SolitudeSweet Talk, Sweet TalkBackstairsChampions of Red WineBorn with a SoundMass RomanticEncores:[something by Dan Bejar; can't read my writing]Sing Me Spanish TechnoThe Bleeding Heart Show

shanleyonmusic

I'm what you'd call a music enthusiast. Not one of those obsessive people, but definitely fanatical about it. This blog began as a forum for whatever I am listening to throughout the day but I'm also trying to include full-blown CD reviews too.

About Me

UPDATED - 2/12/2015. I've lived in Pittsburgh all my life and despise the people who live here who put it down because it says less about the town than it does about them. I've played in bands for quite some years. Currently I play bass and sing in a band called the Love Letters, who just released a double 7" single. In the past 10 years I played in Amoeba Knievel, the Fearnots and the Mofones. Previously I played in Bone of Contention (ever heard "Barbie Likes to Die"? People on the interweb have!), the Pundits, Paul Lynde 451 and Mystery Date. Music playing was on hold following the April 3, 2007 birth of my son, Donovan(!), but after a few attempts it started back up. By day, I once worked as the arts editor of two alternative newsweeklies: InPittsburgh and Pulp. Both shut down for different, unhappy reasons. If you want to know, ask. No reason to explain now.